


Buzzing and Burning

by whatkindofnameisella



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Mutual Pining, oh... well hello there ao3... so we meet again, posting this while i still have the blind past-9pm-gall to not care if its good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28443978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatkindofnameisella/pseuds/whatkindofnameisella
Summary: A moment of quiet stretches between them, the buzzing thing in her chest feeling horribly restrained. The fireplace crackles. The cat sleeping on the ottoman stretches. They are very close, and neither of them have looked away, and her eyes trail down to his lips and she thinks she might – she wants to –He sharply breaks her gaze, eyes down to his lap, and to her, and his lap. She quickly does the same, nervously laughing, clearing her throat. Stupid. Fuck. That was stupid.(an alternate ending to the reading ofDer Katzenprinz)(aka, the one where they kiss)
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 29
Kudos: 113





	Buzzing and Burning

**Author's Note:**

> well. hello again. nice to see you here. what a couple of months it's been since i last posted in SEPTEMBER, huh?
> 
> my writing motivation has been like a rollercoaster that has inconsistent power access, starting and stopping and reaching highs and lows at unpredictable times and speeds. but i managed to finish something that i am (for the moment) happy with! so i am getting it out here before i lose my confidence because i have missed this so much!!!!
> 
> also: i started writing this a month ago (literally, to the day) because [alexygalexy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexygalaxy/pseuds/alexygalaxy) wrote a [fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27804244) where she detailed all of the times Caleb and Jester should've kissed, and i got to the Der Katzenprinz part and was like "ha, yeah, they should've kissed." and then realized, "WAIT, YEAH, THEY SHOULD HAVE KISSED!!!" so many thanks to you, alex. go give her some love.

“And, placing it upon his head, he smiled, picked up his heels, and quietly started to dance his way all the way back home.” The book closes slowly, making a soft _pat_ as its pages snap together in Caleb’s hands. He looks up to her. “The end.”

They are, decidedly, much closer to each other than when he started reading – her arm is slightly pressed against his, her chin inches away from resting on his shoulder. Their legs periodically touch. She’s had to shift closer to, well – to see the pictures better, she guesses. It has nothing to do with the buzz in her stomach, or the gentle hum of his voice as he reads that seems to reverberate through her chest. 

He brings the book to rest in his lap. Where his hands lie, now, on top of it, just inches away from her own, she could easily grab one of them. It would take less than a second. She’d barely have to think about it.

Not that she’s going to do that.

She looks to his face and grins. There’s a warmth radiating through her at all of this – the story, the way his voice had lilted up and down with each sentence, the way he offered to read it instead of casting a spell. The way he’s gently returning her smile. “That was a happy story, Caleb!” 

He hums in agreement. “That’s why my mother read it to me.”

The thought that he trusts her with something so close to his heart is overwhelming, so she doesn’t think it. Instead she tilts her head and raises her eyebrows, and surrenders to the blindingly fuzzy feeling buzzing throughout her chest. “I really thought that like, the cat prince would trap him in there forever, and then he would never be able to see his mom again.”

“Well, a lot of Zemnian stories do end that way,” he says, just a _touch_ of amusement to his tone, “that is true.” He lets out a sigh, and the ghost of a smile tugs at his face as his eyes slide to her. “We are, ah, tightly wound.”

She laughs at that. The smile on his face widens. 

When she says that the Cat Prince reminds her of the Traveler, he immediately agrees. Understands. No one else really does that, understands, in the way he does. Not about the Traveler, at least. When he calls him “dicey”, she laughs again, safe in the knowledge that he doesn’t mean to insult by it. She leans in to make a point, her torso pressing into his, her face what she knows to be a shade too close for comfort, but he only looks amused, if a little blush creeps up his cheeks. She’s surprised at how much the close in distance rustles her. Jester Lavorre does not get _rustled_ by something like that.

When the dust of the conversation settles, he’s still smiling at her. Still hasn’t pulled back.

Gods, she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

She ends up clutching them to her chest, looking down at the cover of the book, ornately illustrated, still lying in his lap. “That was an amazing story.” She looks up to him, her voice low. “Thank you.” 

His face is fond, then flustered. He bites the bottom of a smile. “I am glad I could share it with you.”

She giggles. “Yeah.”

A moment of quiet stretches between them, the buzzing thing in her chest feeling horribly restrained. The fireplace crackles. The cat sleeping on the ottoman stretches. They are very close, and neither of them have looked away, and her eyes trail down to his lips and she thinks she might – she wants to – 

He sharply breaks her gaze, eyes down to his lap, and to her, and his lap. She quickly does the same, nervously laughing, clearing her throat. Stupid. Fuck. That was stupid.

Somewhere she finds the courage to look up again, over to his lap. “Can – can I have it back?” She points to the book.

“Oh, _ja_ , it is your copy,” he fumbles to grasp it and then transfer it the short distance to her hands. “It will vanish when we leave here, but it is yours.”

She takes it gently, glancing once up to his face before looking back down at the book again. She passes a hand over the front. The illustration is intricate and beautiful, with great flourishes embellishing the frame and deep red canvas embossed with gold covering the spine and perimeter. She looks back up to him, a helpless smile on her face. The feeling pressing through her chest is ardent and overflowing.

“Thank you.” She says it again, though it feels pointless.

“ _Ja._ ” It passes through his lips as barely a whisper. 

The firelight flickers, turning the wisps of his hair not pulled back to gold, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. He looks handsome. She is aware again of her leg pressing against his through the blanket, the short distance between their hands, both fiddling. Between their faces.

“I – “

“Well – “

They start at the same time, and laugh. It’s the humorless, helpless kind. She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want this to end.

“It’s, ah,” he scratches a hand behind his neck, “Getting late, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” She looks down at her book, clutched tightly in her hands, then back up at him again. “Late.”

She smiles. He smiles. Their faces are very close. She swallows.

“Well,” she takes a shaky breath, eyes to his nose and lips and – up, Lavorre, _up_ , to his eyes again, “I guess,” a lick of the lips, “I guess I should – “

He kisses her.

The world seems to tilt on its side. Softly, slowly, he kisses her.

It’s a lot at once – his mouth on hers, his hand on her jaw, warmth spreading through her chest, burning her up and melting her down from the inside. It feels like a release, so much held in for so long finally let open, and she inches her hand up to his shoulder, and neck, and – 

All of a sudden, his lips aren’t on hers anymore. 

It takes her a moment to open her eyes. She’s never been kissed before. Not really, if that’s what a kiss is. She’s sure if she lifted a hand, it would shake.

“Sorry.” He takes a ragged breath. Through her lashes, slowly opening, she sees him grimacing. “Sorry, sorry – “

She huffs a laugh. “Caleb – “

He takes the hand on her jaw away to rub it down his face. “I shouldn’t have – “

_“Caleb – “_

“That was stupid, I – “

“Shut up!” He stops, stares at her. If she’s being honest, she’s surprised herself too. And the blue of his eyes are so piercing. She takes a flustered breath, on the verge of a laugh, “You’re so annoying, just – “ Her hands travel aimlessly up his shoulder, his neck, come to a rest on either side of his face. Hesitantly, she leans in, nose just barely touching nose, chest buzzing. “Just shut up.”

This time, she kisses him. And really, now that she’s had some practice, kisses him. 

For a moment, he’s frozen and then – melting into her. And – oh, if she’d thought they’d kissed her before, this is – _this_ is a kiss, this is – sweet and hungry and aching, his hand back on her cheek and her fingers winding into his hair. His lips slant against hers, and she sighs against them, and it feels like every part of her is burning, or buzzing, or both. He kisses her again.

It’s absolutely divine.

Slowly, they break apart – hand cupping jaw, fingers in hair, eyes reluctant to open. Lips chasing lips. Her heart is beating unbelievably fast, and a grin spreads across her face in what feels like drunkenness.

“Oh,” he breathes. His face is blotchy and red, eyes soft. A little dopey. It makes her laugh.

“What?” She manages.

“Nothing. Just,” he takes another breath. “Oh.”

She giggles harder, biting her bottom lip. He grins.

Her laughter dies down, and she looks down to her lap, clearing her throat. Then back up to him again. “Well.” A pause. “What happens now?”

He laughs a bit, still looking at her. Still close. “I don’t know,” he says, and they’re sent into another bubbly fit of laughter again.

His eyes linger on hers, crinkling at the corners, his thumb absently rubbing over the fabric at her hip. In all the warmth she feels, the sensation sends goosebumps up the side of her body, a shock of sudden cold. In the mess that is her mind some part of her absently wonders if this is what it feels like, what her mother feels like so often, to be adored.

Gods, she really wants to kiss him again. 

Instead his eyes flick over her shoulder, and, suddenly, he’s frowning. “Oh, _schisse_.”

He pulls back and leans over her lap, reaching for the floor, leaving her heady and buzzing to hold her own weight. He gropes around for a moment and comes back up flushed, holding _Der Katzenprinz_ in his hands. She looks down to it, then to him, scratching the back of his neck and barely able to look her in the eye. “I guess – I guess it fell.” He looks up to her, finally. “Sorry.”

The bashfulness is such a sudden switch that she has to laugh. And she does, the giggles shaking her body as she takes the book from his hands. Again. “Thank you,” she says, and holds the book close in her lap.

He nods. “ _Ja_.” He grins at her for a moment, and then, with a sudden sigh, shakes his head and buries his face in his hands. “Gods, you turn me into such a fool.”

Oh, that’s – he’s – sweet. She bites her lip against the drop in her stomach.

He drags his head out of his hands and smiles at her, no longer hiding fondness. She breathes in it for a moment, and then, “I guess – I guess I should get back to my room.”

“Oh, _ja_.” He blinks, inhaling. “ _Ja_.”

She looks down to the book, then to him, down and laughs, and then – stands. Quickly, he stands too. They stare at each other for a moment, bitten-lip grins and fiddling hands, and then – she steps around him, and he mumbles a _sorry_ , and she walks quickly across the floor, legs jittery beneath her. Reaching the door, he quickly steps just to the side of her to open it up, fingertips barely grazing her torso, and – oh – he is so close to her, and all she wants is to lean back against his torso, to grab his arms and pull them around her, to be enveloped by him. To be touched. 

But the thought is so overwhelming, and even though she’s _kissed_ him, gods, she – she doesn’t know what she’s doing, really. She’s not sure he does, either.

Another night, then.

He begins to open the door, and she begins to step through, and, warm light streaming in from the central hall, feet on the threshold, she quickly turns around.

Caleb is quick to meet her eyes. Standing barely a foot behind her, hand absently lingering on the door. It’s like the air is buzzing between them, and she opens and closes her mouth, unsure of what to say.

Traveler, it’s so stupid, she’s so stupid, after everything that’s happened tonight, and now… what? She can’t even hold a conversation with him? Can’t even muster the words _goodnight_?

But there are too many things to say – _thank you, I like you, I can’t believe that happened, could I kiss you again? Do you like me half as much?_ Well – that last one’s stupid, it’s clear he likes her half as much. More than half as much. 

What a terrifying thought.

She clears her throat and looks down at the book _(stupid, stupid, stupid)_ , then back up at him again. “Goodnight, then, Caleb.”

He blinks back at her, face wonderfully red, chest heaving a breath. “Uh, _ja_ , goodnight, Jester.” Then, softly. “ _Guten nacht_.”

She lingers for one final moment, caught in the blue of his eyes and the flustered fondness on his face, and she is reminded of so many things – holding his hand as he peered into the beacon so long ago, the tower standing around them and the book in her hand, the feeling in her chest when he’d laughed at one of her jokes for the first time. A hundred little moments all leading up to this.

She bites a grin and, hand on the doorknob, keeps her eyes on his slowly dwindling face as she pulls the door the remainder of the way closed. The door clicks, and she’s left alone.

Her feet buzz beneath her, along with every part of her body, from chest to fingertips. She pulls her hand back and slowly turns around. 

Immediately, she sinks to the floor in a crouch and buries her face in her hands.

What a sending spell she’ll have to send to her mama tonight.


End file.
